


Monochromatic

by Katie_Scribbles



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Bay Movies), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Domestic Violence, Explicit Language, Gen, Gun Violence, Immigration & Emigration, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, One Shot, Physical Abuse, Refugees, Threats of Violence, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-10-12 02:25:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17458826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katie_Scribbles/pseuds/Katie_Scribbles
Summary: Donatello was always sure he and his brothers were doing the right thing. Helping people. Right and wrong were easy to determine. Black and white. A late night patrol, a chance meeting, and what should be a routine job, leaves him reeling. The true definition of right and wrong, is so very... grey.Rated Teen borderline Mature for language and dark subject matter.





	Monochromatic

“Hey, Raph, I got something close by!” Donatello called out to his brother as they patrolled the New York City skyline. He adjusted the knob of the police scanner to better hear the dispatcher. 

“- _ Repeat, 10-50, possible 10-52 at 45th and Camden. Drunk and disorderly. Witnesses highly suspect domestic violence, perpetrator suspected to be armed. No mention of shots fired _ .” 

“Where?” Raphael questioned as he caught up.

“It’s the next block over. That building is old, it'll be an easy black out job. In and out, quick, no witnesses.” Donnie explained as they ran. “The electrical box should be on the roof-” 

The pair stopped abruptly as the roof in question came into view below them. A clearly drunk man in a disheveled suit was waving a pistol in the air, with speech so slurred it was hard to make his words out. A woman was standing in the rooftop doorway, begging him to calm down and come back inside. 

“GODDAMMIT YOU BITCH! I’sse always bennn ov’r backwards FOR YOU! I gi’ you clothes an’ food AN’ THIS FUCKIN’ ROOF. An’ you! All you haftsa do is goddam SIMPLE!”

“Please, Chris! I am so sorry! I will remember next time, I promise! Can we please talk about this inside?” 

“NO! FUCK YOU! You did thiss ta me! Whore…”

The woman inched her way closer to him, continuing to plead. The doorway had shadowed her face, but pale, yellow street light highlighted some shocking features as she stepped forward. Bruises in various stages of healing, a swollen jaw, and unmistakable fresh blood dripping down her temple. Her jeans and hoodie hid any other injuries, but the way she favored her right side was telling. 

Donnie and Raph exchanged a quick glance. They hadn't expected the scene to be unfolding in such a public place. If they intervened, the man and the woman would definitely see them. The man, (“Chris,” according to the woman,) was drunk, so that wasn't terribly concerning. The woman, however, was a problem…

“I think I know that scumbag,” Raph whispered, “Case an’ me tailed him a while one night after we saw him slap the girl he was with. But he was all sorry and junk and she was huggin’ him so we decided against doin’ somethin’. Still didn’t sit right wit me though. Now I know why.” He ground his teeth as the rage welled up, “So we going in, or what?”

Donnie was still scrambling to decide what to do. Leo usually made the tough calls. If he could only get to that breaker box! 

“She’ll see us,” he managed to squeak. They were running out of time, the police would be here in ten minutes. The lights and sirens were liable to make a desperate man do something he couldn’t undo.

“So what?! We help people, end of story!” Raph leapt into the shadows below without waiting for Donnie’s reply.

“We help people,” Donnie whispered in agreement as he followed Raph’s lead. They always did the right thing, regardless of their… situation. Some things were black and white. 

As they readied their positions, the familiar click of a cocking gun immediately had their attention. Raph was ready to throw his weapon if the scumbag’s elbow so much as twitched. His eyes narrowed through the red bandana slits as the drunk’s arm swung down to aim at the shocked woman. A brilliant flash of silver whizzed through the air and knocked the gun from his hand. 

“GAH! Wha’ th’ fuck?” He screamed in pain and gawked at the sight of his sliced hand. Chris reeled looking for his gun, and was shocked to see it was pinned to the brick wall behind him by a short, three-pronged sword, wedged deep in the crumbling mortar. 

He gasped and stumbled backwards as a massive, green arm reached out of the shadows to yank the weapon free. Raphael stepped into view and cracked his knuckles. 

“Now, that’s no way to treat a lady.”

Chris yelled in fright as a huge, seven foot tall, green man approached him. 

“Wha’ the- WHO THE HELL- WHAT FUCK-  GIMME MY GUN!” He was too drunk to realize how much shit he was in. Donnie smirked as he watched for his cue.

Raph paused to reach down and retrieve the gun at the base of the wall. It was almost comical in size compared to his large hand. He held the tiny firearm and considered the man’s request for a moment. Then he flashed a wicked smile.

“Nah,” He slammed the gun against the wall with an audible crunch. Tiny metal pieces scattered to the floor as he pulled his hand away. “Oops.” 

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Chris grabbed a lose, wooden board that had been leaning against the wall and swung it wildly. It was rotten in the center and Raph easily punched through it with a laugh. Chris, (who was now a ball of drunken rage and curses,) flung his half of the board away, desperately looking for a new weapon. The thrown wooden piece arched back toward the door, where the terrified woman cowered. 

Donnie flew out of his hiding place and landed in front of her, smacking the board away with a twirl of his staff. He winced at the frightened shriek behind him, but ignored it as he flanked the idiot his brother was now just toying with. The man swung wildly with his fists and Donnie rolled his eyes as Raph continued to howl with laughter.

“Sleep it off, moron.” Donnie quickly jabbed the man in the back of the head with his staff and he was out like a light. 

A tangible wave of silence washed over Donnie as he turned to face the woman. She just stared. He cleared his throat and reached up to fidget with his glasses. 

“Ma'am? Are- are you ok?” Why did his voice always have to squeak? He slowly approached her with non-threatening, open hands.

Her wide, brown eyes blinked and she took a deep breath as she surveyed what just happened. Her deep breaths turned into fast, short ones as she began to hyperventilate.

“Woah. Easy, easy…” Donnie knelt down to her level, but didn't get too close. She jumped in surprise as lights flashed and a virtual screen appeared in thin air above his wrist, scanning and monitoring her vital signs. “Try lowering your head between your knees, I- I think I have a paper bag here somewhere-” he stammered on, rummaging through his supplies, occasionally tapping and swiping at things on the screen.

“Yo, Donnie, I got him tied up but his hand’s still bleedin’ pretty bad.” Raph called from behind him. 

“Oh, here,” he tossed Raph a fresh bandage roll. “It’s because of the alcohol. How much has he had tonight, by the way?” He aimed the question at the woman, who just continued to panic. “Oh, sorry, lemme find that bag...” Donnie gulped guiltily as the gasping woman didn’t answer and just kept staring back and forth between him and his brother. It took a few awkward moments, but he finally retrieved his prize triumphantly.

“Ah ha! I knew it!” He pulled the paper bag out and puffed it up. He hand it to the woman gently, “Here, this’ll help.” She took it with a trembling hand, but didn't pull away. 

“Who are you?” Her voice was shaky, but clear, and had a slight accent that hugged each syllable.

Donnie blinked. She was still holding his hand. He wasn't quite sure how to answer.

“We help people,” he said simply. 

She silently stared at him as her breathing slowed. She still wouldn’t let his hand go. Donnie felt the urge to squirm under her intense gaze. This wasn’t a reaction he’d been expecting. Instead, he stared back at her. As he looked over all her wounds, he found it difficult to maintain eye contact. Silently, he reached into his pack for some gauze and carefully reached out to pat the cut above her eye. 

“Thank you,” she whispered. Again, he was speechless. Nobody had ever thanked him before, at least not someone he’d saved on patrol. 

She spoke again before he could respond, “Where did you come from?”

“Manhattan,” Raph replied with rolled eyes. She cowered slightly at his approach. 

Donnie shot him an irritated look, “Back off, Raph, you’re huge.” 

“Well, excuse me,” Raph scoffed, “but the cops will be here any minute so we gotta split.” 

“What? Cops?!” The woman released Donnie’s fingers and jumped up in a panic. “Oh, no, oh, no! And you broke his gun! He is going to be furious when he wakes up! Oh, this is all my fault!” The two watched in confusion as she rushed over to untie her attacker and struggled to lift him.

“Hey! What are ya’ doin?!” Raph argued, “Just leave him! You can just tell the cops he passed out up here and you tied him up or somethin’.”

“The cops cannot find him like this!” the woman snapped at him with such ferocity, that she nearly forgot she was talking to… something. Near tears, she pleaded, “He cannot go to jail!”

“If he doesn’t go to jail, he’ll hurt you again,” Donnie frowned and stated matter-of-factly. “You just said he would be furious when he wakes up.” He didn’t understand why this was even an argument, it made no sense.

“That does not matter.” 

As she pushed back her dark hair, Donnie spotted another nasty, black bruise on her neck that he hadn’t noticed earlier and something inside him snapped. “Of course it matters! Why are you defending this monster?”

“I have nowhere else to go.” Her voice broke. 

She immediately gasped and stepped back in fear as Raph stalked towards her angrily. With a frown, he lifted Chris over his shoulder.

“So where do you want him?” 

She reached towards Chris, in protest, “I can-”

“Shaddup and tell me where you want him!” 

She gulped and mumbled a thank you and escorted him down the stairs to the penthouse. Donnie followed, still protesting as they began to hear faint sirens approach. 

“This is ridiculous! The man’s an abuser, a  _ criminal _ ! He needs to be punished.”

“Shaddup, Donnie,” Raph grunted as he tossed the sleeping man onto a nice, leather sofa. The whole apartment was chic and screamed money. Though, it was a little hard to tell under all the chaos of tossed lamps and shattered glassware. 

He turned to address the woman as she hurried to look out the blinds at the flashing lights in the street. “Look, Lady, I know this is a lot to take in one night and you’ve already been through some major shit, clearly. But ya can’t say nothin’, alright? Like, it’ll probably be easy to make somethin’ up fuh Romeo over there, bein’ so drunk, but ya can’t tell no one else about us.” 

She turned back and stared at them, “...and who would believe me?”

Raph chuckled, “She’s gotta point.” He headed to a dark window facing away from the street and lifted it. “Let’s go, Genius,”

Donnie hesitated. “Are you sure you’re going to be alright?” He knew the answer.

“I am very grateful for your help,” she said, almost tearfully. She locked eyes with him and saw the disbelief and hung her head. “I am sorry.” 

A knock and the gruff voice of the NYPD made her jump and face the door.

“Just a moment please!” she called cheerily, having practiced the fake voice many times before. She turned back to say goodbye. The only thing left in the room was the gentle breeze from the open window.

She straightened her posture and put on a smile. Calmly, she opened the door to greet two officers. 

“Good evening ma’am, we received reports of a disturbance at this location. Are you in need of assistance?” Their shocked expressions at her appearance and a subtle shift to place hands on weapons said much more than their words. “May we come in?”

“Oh of course! I apologize! I am so sorry if the neighbors were disturbed at such a late hour.” She widened the door to allow them entry. As they peaked in and took note of the sleeping man on the couch, one of the officers chose to remain in the hall and spoke into a radio.

“I’m Officer Peters, my partner there is Officer Kevins. What is your name, ma’am?”

“Amelia Connor.”

“You have some ID?”

“Yes, sir.” She crossed the room to her purse and handed the officer a driver’s license.

“And is this your residence?”

“Yes, sir, but my boyfriend is the owner.”

“The gentleman, on the sofa here?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And his name?”

“Christopher Blake.”

“Alright, what exactly happened here tonight ma’am?” 

“I am afraid my no good brother was here earlier. He is a bit of a trouble maker and he treats me terribly, as you can see.”

“And your brother’s name?”

“Jacob Connor.”

“Is he still on the premises?” The officer moved closer to investigate the man on the couch. He bent down to check his pulse. 

“No, thankfully. He arrived just as I was setting the table for dinner. Chris was not home from work yet.” She gestured to the smashed plates and scattered glass on the dining room table. 

“And what does he look like?”

“He is fairly short, about 5’ 7”. Dark brown hair and brown eyes. He was wearing a black hoodie and ripped jeans. Oh and he has a tattoo of angel wings on his right forearm.” 

“Alright, so what happened when your brother got here?”

“He was very high when he arrived. I am not sure what he was using this time. I should not have let him in, I only did because he seemed alright at first. He said he missed me and was trying to get clean. It has been an ongoing problem for him since we were young, his drug addiction. Then out of nowhere, he began hitting me, throwing things, demanding money. He was very angry. You see, he has always held it against me that I received all of the inheritance from our parents when they passed.”

“Right.” He raised an eyebrow as he repeated her story. “So your brother shows up as you’re about to have dinner, high as a kite and assaults you, demanding money. Why is your boyfriend here passed out on the couch with a bleeding hand?”

“Well apparently he had a few drinks with the boys after work. I am afraid he cannot hold down very much liquor. But he arrived during my brother’s rampage. He is probably the only reason I’m still alive,” she looked to the couch lovingly, “Chris fought my brother off and then Jacob ran. He fell asleep shortly after that, like I said, he is sort of a lightweight,” she laughed.

“Why didn’t you call 911 yourself then, ma’am?” 

“Well, I was going to, but I decided against it. I didn't want him to get in trouble. I thought I should wait to discuss it with Chris when he woke. He may want to press charges, but I do not. We didn’t need any immediate medical attention, I know it looks bad, but I am perfectly capable of handling a few scrapes and bruises. And I know Jake did a terrible thing, but I really do not want to press charges. He is my only family,” she said sadly. “Thinking about it now, I probably should have reported it so he would not hurt himself or anyone else. Thank God Chris came home when he did!” Chris let out a loud snore, as if on cue. 

“And has your boyfriend ever physically harmed you?”

“Oh no! Absolutely not! He takes very good care of me.”

The officer looked at her evenly for a long time. Eventually, his partner entered and whispered something in his ear. 

“Well, your story checks out, they picked up a Jacob Connor a little while ago near here, soliciting money, definitely under the influence. We can’t get much sense out of him. We’ll give him a bit to sober up. But we’re going to need you and your boyfriend to come down to the station tomorrow to give an official statement regarding this incident.”

“Yes sir, that shouldn’t be an issue. I am so sorry Jake is causing you problems.” 

“It’s our job, ma’am. Now, he’ll be with us for the night at least, but if he ever causes you problems again, you need to call us. No amount of love for a family member will help when it’s too late.” He said sternly. 

“Yes sir, I understand, thank you.” 

She quietly shut the door behind them and stood perfectly still until the flashing blue lights stopped and she heard the tires pull away. With a huge exhale, she slid down against the door and cried.

Donnie was sick to his stomach. He didn’t know why he stuck around to listen. Raph had warned him not to get further involved. Her panicked words on the rooftop just kept echoing in his mind, “ _ What?! Cops?! Oh, no, oh, no! And you broke his gun! He is going to be furious when he wakes up _ !  _ Oh, this is all my fault! _ ” Donnie cringed. He couldn’t listen to her crying anymore.

It was hard not to be angry. He finally felt a bit of sympathy for Raph’s hot headedness. It just wasn’t fair. Why did she  _ choose _ to live this way? She didn’t deserve this,  _ nobody _ deserved this! He found his way to the roof. His eye fixed on a pile of crushed, metal pieces. “ _ And you broke his gun! He is going to be furious when he wakes up _ !” He sat down and got out his tools. 

Donnie lost track of time with his tinkering, as usual. He managed to put most of the firearm back together, though of course it was badly crushed and it would never work again. The temperature of the night air dropped and he shivered, ignoring it. He kept working. He didn't even hear the gentle click of the rooftop door opening.

“You’re still here.”

He froze. A familiar accent met his ears. Dammit, some ninja he was. He turned around sheepishly and cleared his throat. 

“Yeah, I’m just…” What  _ was _ he still doing here? “I’m just… trying to fix… um…” He held up the battered gun. 

“Oh,” she said simply. She crossed the gap and sat down next to him, much to his surprise. “Why?”

Donnie gaped. “Um-uh... well, I just, I-uh didn’t want him to be so mad at you? I guess?” He rushed to continue, “I mean it certainly won’t ever be in working condition again. When Raph breaks things, he typically intends for them to stay broken. But I managed to get the basic build back together, though the chassis is badly crushed in. I figured you could tell him that he threw it off the building in frustration or something…and uh, maybe if he thought it was his own fault he wouldn’t be so...yeah.”

A long silence settled between them. Finally, she broke it.

“I was afraid I would not get to see you again. To explain.”

“Um,” Donnie awkwardly pushed up his glasses, “You don’t have to… you know… whatever. It’s none of my business.” He faltered. This was so strange. Why was she so strange? Why wasn’t she concerned with how  _ he _ was strange?

“So you are from Manhattan?” It was like she could read his thoughts. He shifted uncomfortably.

“Heh, yeah, you could say that.”

“So you are not… extra terrestrial?”

“Um-” 

“I am sorry if that was a rude question!” she quickly back peddled and blushed.

“Oh, no. And no, I’m from Earth.”

Again silence. Donnie kept tinkering.

“It is just…” She hesitated, and he looked up from his work. “You are so very…  _ green _ .” She stared closely at the scales on his arm in fascination. Her eyes slowly lifted up to meet his gaze. She flushed in embarrassment to be caught staring and added,  “And you sort of look like a cyborg.” She pointed to the intricately designed goggles on his head.

He blinked.  _ What was her deal _ ?

“How did you make that blue screen appear earlier?” She waited, curiously.

“Oh um, that’s just an augmented reality display I designed. Seeing it like that makes it easier for me when I’m out… um…” he trailed off.

“Helping people?” She smiled.

“Yeah, helping people.” He smiled back and gently handed her the deformed gun. 

She turned it over in her hands quietly, deep in thought. 

“It must be hard, helping people all the time.”

He shrugged. “It’s the right thing to do, that’s why we do it. We stop the bad guys.” Right and wrong was easy. Black and white. 

“Well, it must be hard when you know the person you helped will just keep needing help again... and it is their own fault.” 

_ “Oh, this is all my fault!” _ He said nothing as the familiar words echoed in his mind. Right and wrong  _ used _ to be easy. Now it was all… grey.

“What is your name?” 

“Donnie, what’s yours?”

“Rosa.” His brows wrinkled his purple mask at the unexpected name. More grey. 

He took a deep breath. “So, I can’t help but ask...um, why?”

She was quiet for a long time. He almost thought she wouldn’t answer.

“I have nowhere else to go.” she sighed. She sounded so… defeated. “I am not supposed to be in this country. Chris helped me to get here. He has done it for a few people. All I had to do was belong to him, make sure everything was how he expected it. He got me papers, a new name, and I am grateful. My home… my home is a bad place.” 

Donnie sat in stunned silence. He read news articles. He knew many places that she could be describing. But somehow, the information never really sunk it until now. How awful must her country be to be  _ grateful _ to be a slave? Grey. 

“I am afraid the incident of this evening was entirely avoidable. It was my fault. You see, I forgot to fill the salt.”

“ _...all my fault! ...all my fault! ...all my fault!”  _ The words echoed in his head. Threatened at gunpoint over table salt. How could that not be black and white?

He spoke before he could stop himself. “And what did you do to earn all the yellowing bruises? You can’t make me believe those were from today.” He hated the bitterness in his tone, but he couldn’t seem to help it. 

“That is not important.”

He huffed. “I guess self preservation isn’t that important to you.” 

She changed the subject. “Donnie, you said that you stop bad guys,” she paused, choosing her words, “What is a bad guy?”

He did his best to calm down and keep his tone even, “I suppose... I would consider anyone who harms an innocent person, particularly for selfish reasons, a bad guy.”

Rosa quietly folded her knees up to her chest. “Well, then I suppose I am a bad guy too. I falsely accused an innocent man tonight, a friend, in order to save my own arrangement. You see, I had to tell the police officers something plausible. My friend was also brought here by Chris. He will probably be deported now. But if I had not done this, then  _ we _ would be.” She placed a loving hand on her belly and caressed it. 

Grey. Maybe it was the eerie hue of twilight, when the lights of the city go out and the low light just before dawn blankets the world, but now everything was grey. He held up his hand. Even him. 

“I hate the color grey,” he murmured absentmindedly. 

She hummed in agreement, “Life seems much easier to see clearly when you only paint with black or white. But who is to say which is better to paint with, the black or the white?”

He just stared at her as the rising sun slowly began to add pale colors back into the world.

She continued. “And you know what the hardest part is? Once you make grey, the colors can never be unmixed. So you accept it because what else can you do? You paint with grey.”

Rosa moved to stand. Donnie rushed up to help her, and she smiled her thanks. She paused to stretch, stiff from the cold. Then she offered her hand. Donnie couldn't remember ever actually experiencing a handshake before. It was a weird feeling. 

“It was very nice to meet you, Donnie,” she smiled, “Thank you. And I do hope you will still help people, even the grey ones.” She squeezed his hand goodbye and went back into the warmth of the building.

“We help people, that’s what we do,” he nodded as he watched her leave. Some things were black, white, and grey. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! This was a quick little plot bunny I had to get out.  
> Please feel free to comment, critiques are always appreciated!
> 
> Please note:  
> All TMNT characters are owned by Nickelodeon, and I do not claim rights to any of them. 
> 
> Also, the essence of this story is what's important, please don't pay too much attention to incorrect details. 
> 
> I am NOT from New York, nor do I know anything about real police encounters. I made up the street names and the only police info I really had to go on were learned from watching cop shows. 
> 
> That being said, I appreciate any feedback that would help me make my police interactions more realistic in the future!
> 
> I would also like to note, I have not been in a domestic abuse situation personally, but I have friends who have confided in me about their experiences. This is a story I completely made up, and is not based on any one person.


End file.
